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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24530677">What Goes Up</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imagining_in_the_Margins/pseuds/Imagining_in_the_Margins'>Imagining_in_the_Margins</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Criminal Minds (US TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Flirting, Fluff, Self-Insert, Tooth-Rotting Fluff</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 09:47:14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,842</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24530677</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imagining_in_the_Margins/pseuds/Imagining_in_the_Margins</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Spencer breaks the Magician’s code for a very adorable exception.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Spencer Reid/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>178</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>What Goes Up</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Life at the BAU was somehow weirder than I’d expected. It wasn’t a bad thing, just a little different than what I’d prepared for. The woman I was replacing probably should’ve been the first sign.</p><p>I remembered the first time I walked into her office, noting the extensive number of stuffed animals and bright colors. It felt like I was walking into my old bedroom, not an office for a technical analyst who works for the FBI.</p><p>It was… quirky and comforting. </p><p>Those were two words that suited most of the goings-on at the office. None more so than the (other) resident genius, who I’d only recently discovered had  been in jail a few years prior — not really sure how that happened. Wasn’t going to ask him about it just yet, though. Seemed like one of those <em>close-friend</em> conversations.</p><p>But since I needed to talk to him, and I had a tendency to blurt out completely inappropriate things whenever he was around (we call that mirroring), I needed something to talk about. </p><p>When I had asked Garcia for interesting tidbits about him, the first thing she’d come up with wasn’t his IQ, nor how many words per minute he can read. No, it was a very excited and childlike exclamation of ‘<em>Oh! He can do magic!</em>’</p><p>It was surprising only because the man somehow seemed <em>exactly</em> like the kind of person to learn magic. Like that sweet, innocent persona was really just meant to master sleight of hand.</p><p>So, with a twinkle in my eye and a file in my hand, I walked up to Spencer’s desk fully prepared to do small talk. That time, I would not look like an absolute idiot staring at him with a confused smile as he told me about the origins of each definition of the word ‘spam.’</p><p>At least, I thought that until I was standing in front of him, and he was looking up at me with that adorable blank stare.</p><p>“Oh, hey!” he said before glancing down at the file in my hands. “That for me?”</p><p>“Yes!” I half-shouted, and when he reached for the file, I - for some reason - jerked it away. “But I have a question first.”</p><p>He gave a nervous laugh and furrowed his eyebrows with a smile. </p><p>“Okay?” he asked, “What’s up?”</p><p>“Okay, well, I’m trying to get to know you all better, right?” I explained, like holding his work hostage was a totally normal thing to do. “So, I asked Penelope for some fun facts about each of you, and I was interested in yours.”</p><p>His body language quickly shifted to pure anxiety as he licked his lips, clearly trying to think through all the horribly embarrassing details someone like a technical analyst would know about her coworkers.</p><p>“I heard… You can do magic.” </p><p>It was shocking how quickly his demeanor changed, him sitting up and leaning forward towards me with a large grin.</p><p>“Oh! Yes. I can.”</p><p>He was positively beaming with pride, and I had to take a minute to catch my breath at the adorable vision before me.</p><p>“Can you… Show me?” I asked with the best puppy dog eyes I could form. He had a faux look of contemplation despite clearly having already made up his mind.</p><p>“Hmm… I guess so,” he playfully teased. “But you have to turn around first.”</p><p>Deciding it was best to be a good sport, I spun around on my heels, rocking my body back and forth with excitement as I heard him going through the drawers on his desk. I tried to listen closely and imagined all of the different things that could make the noises I was currently hearing.</p><p>“Okay, turn around!” he called, his hands in the air as he stared at the single, small film canister sitting in the center of his desk. Leaning forward over his shoulder, I rested my chin on him for a second.</p><p>“What’s happening?” I whispered, but he quickly shushed me.</p><p>“Just watch!”</p><p>I glanced between him and the object, my eyes lingering a fraction of a second longer on him each time. Which, was unfortunate only because as soon as the loud pop resounded through the room and the canister took off, I was <em>not</em> paying attention.</p><p>“Ah!” I shouted, jumping back after yelling in his ear. </p><p>He hadn’t even <em>flinched</em>. And now he was devolving into a small fit of laughter at just how spooked I had been.</p><p>“You scared the shit out of me!”</p><p>“Me? You just yelled in my ear!” he shouted back, getting up from his seat to retrieve the plastic that had shot across the room. </p><p>When he returned I was sitting on his desk with my legs dangling as I set the file down next to me. He didn’t let my presence dissuade him from sitting down in his chair, pulling into the space next to me and opening the file I had dropped off. </p><p>“Can you show me how to do it?”  </p><p>“Not a chance.” </p><p>“Oh, come on! It’s me!”</p><p>“Who are you, again?” he joked, leaning forward on his desk as he pretended to squint to make out my face.</p><p>“Rude. And hurtful.”</p><p>With a simple shrug, he half-apologized by saying, “A magician never reveals his secrets.”</p><p>Twisting my mouth to the side, I tilted my head towards him as he continued to pretend to read the file that was significantly less interesting than our current conversation.</p><p>“Okay. But what about your assistant?”</p><p>Without looking up, he muttered a quick, “Don’t have one.”</p><p>“I could be yo-!“ I started, but was quickly cut off by a harsh, “<em>No</em> <em>way.</em>”</p><p>I pouted, but it got me nowhere. So, instead, I crossed my arms and feet while looking down at him in the chair and proudly stated, “But Spencer, every <em>good</em> magician needs a cute assistant.”</p><p>“Yeah,” he admitted before delivering the <em>cruelest </em>line, “but I would need a cute girl first.”</p><p>My jaw dropped open further than I thought it could go, and I reared back one of my legs to kick him relatively gently in the thigh. I should have hit him harder.</p><p>“I’m kidding! I was kidding! I’m sorry!” he said with more laughter than sincere apology, “Don’t hit me!”</p><p>When I threw my hand at his shoulder, he didn’t even try to avoid it, instead grabbing my fist after it had already hit him. He dramatically winced like the barely-there touch had actually hurt him. I laughed, ashamed to admit just how much I enjoyed the way his hand felt on mine. They were so warm and softer than they should’ve been. Although, I don’t know what else I expected.</p><p>“Well, now you <em>have</em> to tell me, because that was so <b>mean</b>!” It was a daring negotiation tactic, but one that was apparently going to work based on that playful twinkle in his eye.</p><p>“Okay, okay. That’s fair. Fine. You win.”</p><p>I was sad when he dropped my hand, but understood that he needed both of his to begin pulling items out from the drawers. When I realized one of them was below me, I kicked my legs up, and he shot me a <em>way</em> too flirtatious grin as his hand brushed against the underside of my thighs.</p><p>I don’t think he really needed to do all of that, but I wasn’t complaining. It was a little embarrassing how quickly my body responded with all the tell-tale signs of nervousness that a profiler would recognize, though.</p><p>“It’s really not anything special,” he started, opening a new canister and a packet of alka-seltzer. “It’s just a build up of carbon dioxide. A fun party trick, though.”</p><p>Pivoting my hips as much as I could, I tried to ignore the way his arm kept brushing against my knee as he insisted I do the trick myself per his instructions. He wasn’t joking; it was super easy. Within a few seconds I had dropped the water into the canister, snapping it shut and flipping it onto the table.</p><p>I guess that was the moment he realized that I had a high likelihood of getting hit in the face with my own rocket, because he reached forward and yanked me off the table, causing me to collapse into his arms at the same time the canister shot through the air with a loud ‘<em><b>pop</b></em>!’</p><p>We couldn’t even notice, though, because I was currently draped over him, our faces inches apart as he struggled to anchor the seat in position so that it neither tipped backwards nor rolled far enough away that I would fall face first onto the floor.</p><p>Realistically, I knew it was only a few seconds, but it felt like an eternity. How did I know it was only a few seconds?</p><p>Wellll… It turns out that the rocket had hit Prentiss, who had just been returning from lunch.</p><p>“Ow, what the— Reid! Again?!”</p><p>She seemed to be way more delighted by the realization of what happened than I would be if I had just been hit in the face by a film canister, but I still didn’t want to be the one to get in trouble for it.</p><p>I <em>also</em> didn’t want to get in trouble for my current position of essentially straddling Spencer, looking like I was about to make out with him in the middle of the bullpen. Scrambling to stand up as fast as I could, I nearly shoved Spencer into another desk.</p><p>“It wasn’t me!” he yelled as the chair spun him around instead of taking him back to his desk. “It was (y/n)!”</p><p>“Traitor!” I whispered with narrowed eyes, “I thought we were supposed to be partners!”</p><p>He just laughed, “Hey! You’re my assistant, not my partner! I’m still the master here!”</p><p>Between the bickering, JJ and Prentiss had approached us sharing a knowing look.</p><p>“He showed you how to do it?” the blonde asked, and I turned to look at them for the first time.</p><p>“Yeah, sorry. It was my rocket.”</p><p>Luckily, they didn’t seem upset. If anything, they seemed sort of impressed. Prentiss smiled as she nodded, giving a tiny, whispered, “<em>Interesting</em>…” before departing.</p><p>Once the moment had come and passed, I realized I didn’t have any excuse to stay at his desk. And realistically, I should be heading back to my office.</p><p>So why did it seem like he also wanted me to stay?</p><p>Fidgeting with my sleeves, I avoided looking directly at him when I finally spoke, “I guess I should… head back to my cave.”</p><p>“Yeah, and I should probably actually read the file you gave me.”</p><p>Right. That was why I came. Literally forgot.</p><p>“Well, you know where I’ll be. Come visit if you think of any other tricks you want to get off your chest.”</p><p>Don’t ask why I thought finger guns were an appropriate way to end this interaction; I didn’t have a (good) reason.</p><p>The little grin he gave told me he thought it was endearing, and that was good enough for me.</p><p>“Will do.”</p>
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